image from ar.inspiredpencil.com
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ We fall backwards into the snowdrifts, arms sweeping arcs like wings in slow motion. Cold seeps through mittens, but the sky is sooooo wide. Pressed deep, we breathe cloud-breath into cloud-light. We rise, leaving behind these fragile ghosts their imprint remains after we stand~ temporary cathedrals, hollows where the world held us just long enough to matter.
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